


her hands are more beautiful than anything can be

by philindas



Series: to build a home verse [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Mother's Day, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6789658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Melinda's first official Mother's Day as a mother, and the team wants her to know how much she means to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	her hands are more beautiful than anything can be

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This verse is officially a series now, and will absolutely have more stories set in it. This takes place a few weeks after the end of to build a home. Also, I included the first mention of the May sisters in this story- next story will have a full detail of the two OCs I'll be including in this universe! The title is from the poem Her Hands.

Something is just intrinsically different when she wakes up on Sunday.

Phil isn’t beside her, and his side of the bed is cool to the touch, suggesting he’d gotten up a while ago. She hadn’t heard either of the girls, but she’d been so tired from a long week of Nicole having a cold and Margaret being miserable because her twin was miserable it wasn’t unfeasible that she’d slept through it. She yawns, rubbing at her eyes as she sits up before she gets out of bed; she throws on one of Phil’s old sweatshirts before padding into the nursery. Both cribs were empty, and she frowns, wondering where Phil was.

He isn’t in their small kitchen, so she wanders through the base towards the facility kitchen. It’s unusually quiet, even for a Sunday, and she can’t help feeling like she’s missing something.

She’s rubbing at a stain on the sleeve of the shirt when she walks into the kitchen, and she jumps at the chorus of “Happy Mother’s Day” that occurs as she steps through the doorway. Everyone is settled around the large table; Margaret is in Natasha’s arms and Jemma has Nicole, while Phil is at the grill, a variety of breakfast foods in various stages of cooking.

“We wanted your first official Mother’s Day to be special,” Skye says, beaming as she came over to hug her; Melinda squeezed the younger woman tightly, hiding her overwhelmed tears in her pseudo-daughter’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmured, letting Skye go and touching her face gently, smiling. Phil’s grinning as she moves over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and stepping on her tip toes to kiss him firmly, his hands warm against her hip through her pajama pants. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“They wanted to,” he replies, brushing her hair out of her face and running his thumb along her lower lip, eyes warm and soft. “It means a lot to them that everyone’s home for your first major holiday with the girls.”

Melinda just smiles, kissing him once more before she settled into the empty chair beside Natasha, who happily passed Margaret over to her. She kissed her baby’s head, smiling down at her as the little girl sighed happily, snuggling against her. “You all didn’t have to get up so early for me, you know.”

“You wake up at like, 5 in the morning, May,” Natasha responds, raising an eyebrow as she folded her arms, leaning back in her chair. “How else were we going to surprise you?”

Melinda shakes her head fondly, shifting her daughter as Skye comes over with a cup of tea. “Thank you Skye.”

“I think I added enough milk but feel free to yell at me if I didn’t,” the agent replies as she settles in Trip’s lap, an arm around his neck as she picks up her own mug of coffee.

“It’s perfect,” Melinda says as she sips it, the hot liquid warming her from the inside out. She looks over at Jemma, who was carefully rocking Nicole; the little girl’s eyes were growing heavier and heavier, and she couldn’t help the smile that curls her lips. “I will never understand how she can nap so easily.”

“It’s a tough job, being such a cute little girl,” Jemma says affectionately, adjusting the sleeping baby and smiling up at Melinda. “So is it any different? Actually being a mum in Mother’s Day?”

“I’ve certainly never woken up to this before,” Melinda replies, glancing around the table at the collection of family surrounding it. She glances down at Margaret, looking up at her with big, dark eyes and kicking her feet happily, unable to hold back the wide smile her daughter brings to her face. “I suppose it does feel different when you have your own child in your arms.”

She’s quiet for a moment, Margaret’s tiny fist wrapped around her finger, before she looks up, glancing at Skye and Jemma and Fitz. “But I think I’ve been a bit like a mom since you all stepped onto the Bus with Phil and I three years ago.”

Skye beams at her, eyes shiny with tears, and Jemma grasps her hand, squeezing tightly as she gives her own watery smile. “Well I’m certainly glad we’re able to properly celebrate Mother’s Day with you, May.”

“God why is it every time we all get together we get so emotional?” Maria asked, shaking her head as Phil placed a plate of waffles on the table. “I swear to god it’s like a Hallmark movie in here.”

Melinda couldn’t help but chuckle, murmuring soothingly when Margaret fussed; Natasha switched seats so Phil could settle in beside her after placing the rest of the food on the table. There was a quiet din as everyone filled their plates, but Phil just wrapped his arm around her shoulders, smiling down at Margaret as she lifted a fist up, yawning widely and mashing her lips together, gurgling.

“Someone’s sleepy,” he murmured, tickling the bottom of her foot as she sighed, squirming slightly. “I’ll hold her while you eat, Lin.”

Melinda shifted their daughter into his arms, smiling as Margaret burrowed into his warm chest, head tucked safely under his chin and his fake hand spanning the whole of her back. “She’s going to fall asleep on you, Daddy.”

Phil just smiles, placing his free hand on her thigh as she puts some fruit on her plate. The conversation floats around them; Nicole sleeps peacefully in Jemma’s arms as she talks with Bruce about a project they’d been working on to help with Trip’s dehydration issues coming out of his invisibility, while Skye and Steve talk about the meeting they had with Congress the following week to talk more thoroughly about provisions for the up and running Avengers Academy. It’s a natural, overlapping progression of conversation that wraps around them and warms Melinda down to her toes; Phil’s hand is a comforting weight on her thigh, and her daughters were asleep on either side of her, and it’s the nicest Mother’s Day she’d ever had.

Later, she would call her mother and she would demand more pictures of the girls and when she could visit next and Melinda would deflect because it had only been two weeks since she’d left from the girls being born and she’s fairly certain Phil still hasn’t recovered. She’ll call her sisters- Joy and Laurel were always eager for baby news, and Joy had likely celebrated this morning with her husband and daughter. And then, she’d curl up next to Phil with their daughters to celebrate the one holiday she’d never thought she’d really be able to appreciate with the love of her life.

And then, she’d have to start planning for a Father’s Day to _somehow_ outshine Phil.


End file.
